2 _b_ Be to me for a 3 Be to me for a rock of
strong rock, for a house of habitation to go to continually:
defence to save me. Thou hast commanded to save
me;
3 For my rock and my fortress For my rock and my fortress
art Thou. art Thou.
The difference between "a strong rock" and "rock of habitation" is
but one letter. That between "for a house of defence" and "to go to
continually: Thou hast commanded" is extremely slight, as Baethgen
has well shown. Possibly both of these variations are due to textual
corruption, but more probably this psalmist intentionally altered the
words of an older psalm. Most of the old versions have the existing
text, but the LXX. seems to have read the Hebrew here as in Psalm
xxxi. The changes are not important, but they are significant. That
thought of God as a habitation to which the soul may continually
find access goes very deep into the secrets of the devout life.
The variation in ver. 3 is recommended by observing the frequent
recurrence of "continually" in this psalm, of which that word may
almost be said to be the motto. Nor is the thought of God's command
given to His multitude of unnamed servants, to save this poor man, one
which we can afford to lose.
Vv. 5, 6, are a similar variation of Psalm xxii. 9, 10. "On Thee have
I been stayed from the womb," says this psalmist; "On Thee was I cast
from the womb," says the original passage. The variation beautifully
brings out, not only reliance on God, but the Divine response to that
reliance by life-long upholding. That strong arm answers leaning
weakness with firm support, and whosoever relies on it is upheld by
it. The word rendered above "protector" is doubtful. It is substituted
for that in Psalm xxii. 9 which means "One that takes out," and some
commentators would attach the same meaning to the word used here,
referring it to God's goodness before and at birth. But it is better
taken as equivalent to benefactor, provider, or some such designation,
and as referring to God's lifelong care.
The psalmist has been "a wonder" to many spectators, either in the
sense that they have gazed astonished at God's goodness, or, as
accords better with the adversative character of the next clause ("But
Thou art my refuge"), that his sufferings have been unexampled. Both
ideas may well be combined, for the life of every man, if rightly
studied, is full of miracles both of mercy and judgment. If the psalm
is the voice of an individual, the natural conclusion from such words
is that his life was conspicuous; but it is obvious that the national
reference is appropriate here.
On this thankful retrospect of life-long help and life-long trust the
psalm builds a prayer for future protection from eager enemies, who
think that the charmed life is vulnerable at last.
Vv. 9-13 rise to a height of emotion above the level of the rest of the
psalm. On one hypothesis, we have in them the cry of an old man, whose
strength diminishes as his dangers increase. Something undisclosed in
his circumstances gave colour to the greedy hopes of his enemies. Often
prosperous careers are overclouded at the end, and the piteous spectacle
is seen of age overtaken by tempests which its feebleness cannot resist,
and which are all the worse to face because of the calms preceding them.
On the national hypothesis, the psalm is the prayer of Israel at a late
stage of its history, from which it looks back to the miracles of old,
and then to the ring of enemies rejoicing over its apparent weakness,
and then upwards to the Eternal Helper.
Vv. 12, 13, are woven out of other psalms. 12 _a_, "Be not far from
me," is found in xxii. 11, 19; xxxv. 22; xxxviii. 21, etc. "Haste
to my help" is found in xxxviii. 22; xl. 13 (lxx. 1). For ver. 13
compare xxxv. 4, 26; xl. 14 (lxx. 2). With this, as a sort of
refrain, the first part of the psalm ends.
The second part goes over substantially the same ground, but with
lighter heart. The confidence of deliverance is more vivid, and it,
as well as the vow of praise following thereon, bulk larger. The
singer has thinned away his anxieties by speaking them to God, and has
by the same process solidified his faith. Aged eyes should see God,
the helper, more clearly when earth begins to look grey and dim. The
forward look of such finds little to stay it on this side of heaven.
As there seems less and less to hope for here, there should be more
and more there. Youth is the time for buoyant anticipation, according
to the world's notions, but age may have far brighter lights ahead
than youth had leisure to see. "I will hope always" becomes sublime
from aged lips, which are so often shaped to say, "I have nothing left
to hope for now."
This psalmist's words may well be a pattern for old men, who need
fear no failure of buoyancy, nor any collapse of gladness, if they
will fix their thoughts where this singer did his. Other subjects
of thought and speech will pall and run dry; but he whose theme is
God's righteousness and the salvation that flows from it will never
lack materials for animating meditation and grateful praise. "I know
not the numbers thereof." It is something to have fast hold of an
inexhaustible subject. It will keep an old man young.
The psalmist recognises his task, which is also his joy, to declare
God's wondrous works, and prays for God's help till he has discharged
it. The consciousness of a vocation to speak to later generations
inspires him, and assures him that he is immortal till his work is
done. His anticipations have been fulfilled beyond his knowledge. His
words will last as long as the world. But men with narrower spheres
may be animated by the same consciousness, and they who have rightly
understood the purpose of God's mercies to themselves will, like the
psalmist, recognise in their own participation in His salvation an
imperative command to make it known, and an assurance that nothing shall
by any means harm them till they have fulfilled their witnessing. A
many-wintered saint should be a convincing witness for God.
Ver. 20, with its sudden transition to the plural, may simply
show that the singer passes out from individual contemplation
to the consciousness of the multitude of fellow-sufferers and
fellow-participants in God's mercy. Such transition is natural; for
the most private passages of a good man's communion with God are swift
to bring up the thought of others like-minded and similarly blessed.
"Suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host,
praising." Every solo swells into a chorus. Again the song returns to
"my" and "me," the confidence of the single soul being reinvigorated
by the thought of sharers in blessing.
So all ends with the certainty of, and the vow of praise for,
deliverances already realised in faith, though not in fact. But the
imitative character of the psalm is maintained even in this last
triumphant vow; for ver. 24 _a_ is almost identical with xxxv. 28;
and _b_, as has been already pointed out, is copied from several
other psalms. But imitative words are none the less sincere; and new
thankfulness may be run into old moulds without detriment to its
acceptableness to God and preciousness to men.